Страница 53 из 70
You see, I was waiting for Je
She had challenged me to a game of King/Queen. It was a game we used to play on the road with a te
Well, somebody somewhere overheard, and word got back to Je
She was clever, though. She made sure that everyone knew that if I didn’t show up, then she would automatically become the champion, and I suddenly wished my dreaded visit to Aunty Lila was a day early.
Word spread among everyone in the road that Je
I barely slept a wink the night before. I got out of bed, put my ru
It was my challenge with Je
Je
Eventually, as it struck seven P.M., everybody outside began chanting. Some voices called for me but they were drowned out by chants for Je
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t leave the table. I just sat there thinking of ways to get out of the challenge but at the same time having the strange feeling that I wouldn’t need an excuse. The atmosphere had changed-for the worse, I sensed-but I had that relieved feeling like arriving at school to find out the teacher’s sick and not for one second worrying about the teacher. A few minutes later the kitchen door opened and Dad, Mum, and Mrs. Butler came in.
“Honey,” Mum said softly, “do you, by any chance, know where Je
I frowned, confused by the question even though it was perfectly straightforward. I looked back and forth to all their faces. Dad was looking at me with concern, Mum was nodding at me encouragingly, and Mrs. Butler looked like she was going to cry. She looked like her entire life depended on my answer. I suppose it did, in a way.
When I didn’t answer immediately, Mrs. Butler spoke quickly. “The kids outside haven’t seen her all day. I thought maybe she would be with you.”
I knew it was wrong but I felt the sudden urge to laugh at the idea that Je
I’ve seen mothers’ faces in shopping centers when they turn around and notice their child isn’t with them. I studied their faces so intently, completely fascinated by it, because I don’t recall ever seeing that look on my mum’s face. Not because she didn’t love me, of course, but because I was always so tall and out of place there was no way she could lose me. I used to try to get lost sometimes, just to see her face. I would close my eyes, spin around, and choose a direction to head in. Other times I deliberately waited for her to turn the corner into the next aisle in the supermarket. I would shiver by the frozen food and count to twenty until I felt she was far enough away, but most of the time I would turn the corner and there she would be, studying the calorie content on the back of food packages, not having even noticed my absence. If she ever did notice the lack of my shuffling lanky body trailing behind her, no more than five minutes would pass before she found me. She needed only to look up and she’d see my head above the clothes racks or look down to spy my awkward oversized feet poking out from behind a shelf.
From viewing other mothers, I see how the first casual glance over their shoulder changes to panic, how their movements become quicker, head, eyes, limbs darting around, then their abandoning shopping carts in search of the only thing that truly feeds their soul. The fear, the panic, the dread, the drive. They say a mother has the strength to lift a car if it means saving her child. I think that week Mrs. Butler could have lifted a bus just to find Je